


Do You Like Mexican?

by ActiveAggression



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, making out in a car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActiveAggression/pseuds/ActiveAggression
Summary: “Do you like Mexican?” Liam asks, even quieter than before.“What?”“Nothing,” Liam says quickly and then, after a stilted moment, “Mexican.”“I didn’t particularly enjoy Mexico. No,” Stiles answers. He’d thought Scott had enlightened Liam about the trip to Mexico already, but maybe Liam needs a perspective that isn’t riddled with, ‘Isaac was there,’ ‘Isaac was cute on that trip,’ ‘Oh Isaac got hurt, it was the most awful thing to ever happen to me in my entire life.’





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from, but I found it in my hordes of unfinished and finished it. I don't know what inspired this pairing - cause i love love Stiles/Derek and Brett/Liam - but this just really worked for me. I don't know. It was great. yeah. 
> 
> Have fun.

Stiles is sitting in Derek’s loft, rolling his eyes at yet another of Peter’s lies, when Liam - wide eyed and furtive - comes to sit with him. He tries the edge of the couch, grimaces and settles on the floor at Stiles’ feet. 

Scott’s still speaking urgently and with the determination that only Scott possesses, but Peter pauses. He’d been about to go into some ‘you still don’t trust me?’ bullshit, Stiles knows and so he frowns when Peter stops and frowns even more when he turns to regard the beta at Stiles’ feet. 

Stiles doesn’t like Peter looking at anyone, not him, not Scott, definitely not Lydia, and so he moves his leg slightly in front of Liam - trying to shield him from Peter’s gaze. Peter switches to staring at him then, sort of squinty like he’s on the way to figuring something out. 

Stiles barely feels Liam’s hand curl around the bottom edge of his jeans, but he knows it’s that action that causes Peter to smirk. He knows something, something to do with them and Stiles has no idea what it could be. 

“This is boring,” Liam comments quietly. 

“Always is,” Stiles agrees. Derek glares at them like he’s heard but the moment he actually faces them, he blanches visibly and looks away. 

“Do you like Mexican?” Liam asks, even quieter than before. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Liam says quickly and then, after a stilted moment, “Mexican.”

“I didn’t particularly enjoy Mexico. No,” Stiles answers. He’d thought Scott had enlightened Liam about the trip to Mexico already, but maybe Liam needs a perspective that isn’t riddled with, ‘Isaac was there,’ ‘Isaac was cute on that trip,’ ‘Oh Isaac got hurt, it was the most awful thing to ever happen to me in my entire life.’ 

Stiles knows Scott tends to add as much Isaac into any conversation he can. 

“What?” Liam asks, “Mexico?” 

“Yeah. Like the berserkers were pretty uncool. And the Mexican hunters. It wasn’t my favourite time ever. I thought Scott already told you about this?” 

Liam is looking up at him like he’s an absolute lunatic. “Yeah,” he finally says, “he did. Don’t know why I asked.”

Stiles nods at that, looks up to find Peter looking at him like he’s the dumbest piece of slime in existence, but Peter always looks at him that way so he ignores it. He notices Isaac looking at him in much the same way but he’s never really cared about what Isaac thinks either. 

 

“Do you need a lift home?” Stiles goes to ask, halfway through when he notices the weight leaning into his knee. Liam’s asleep, pressed against his leg and curled up loosely. “Liam?” he asks quietly, carding his hand through the younger’s hair. He knows he’s supposed to shake Liam gently and wake him up, but he can’t bring himself to do so. 

His leg feels like it’s getting pins and needles, but he sits there still until Peter looks over and scoffs. 

“Take the boy home,” he suggests. 

“He’s asleep,” Stiles counters, quietly because Peter isn’t doing a good enough job of being quiet. 

“I’ll carry him to the car,” Peter says, rolling his eyes. 

“Absolutely not,” Scott growls, finally realising there’s another conversation happening. “You don’t touch Liam.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees. 

“I just can’t believe you. Here I am, trying to help you people and none of you trust me.” 

This time it’s Derek who rolls his eyes, pushes past his uncle and approaches. Stiles finds himself tensing more and more as Derek approaches until he’s half off the couch with no idea why. 

Derek furrows his brow and stops moving. “I’ll carry him,” Derek promises. Stiles isn’t sure why it sounds like a promise but it does. 

“To your car,” Derek continues. “May I?” 

“Why do you need my permission?” Stiles asks, distantly aware he’s standing very protectively over Liam and is not at all sure what’s compelling him to do so. 

Isaac scoffs loudly, joined by Peter who laughs. Stiles isn’t dumb enough to not realise it’s him who’s being laughed at. He steps back, falls onto the couch and Liam mumbles against his leg.

“That is one underage problem you have,” Peter snarks, settling himself into a chair across the other side of the room. 

“Underage problem?” Stiles asks, but Derek’s already scooped Liam up and is carrying him towards the door. Stiles can’t just leave them - he has the keys - and so he glares and hurries after them. He completely misses the pitying look Isaac’s adopted. 

 

Liam whines in his sleep. Stiles thinks maybe it’s a werewolf thing, but quickly has to abandon that train of thought as the image of Peter whining in his sleep is the most absurdly hilarious thing he’s ever thought of and he worries he’ll wake Liam up with his laughter. 

Liam sleeps soundly though, through the ambulance rushing by them, through the pothole that jolts Stiles in his seat and then happily through Stiles pulling over and saying, “Liam, I don’t know where to go from here. Liam where do you live? Liam?” 

Finally Stiles gets out of the car, which seems folly on the dark, deserted street but he figures if he was being attacked, Liam would probably wake up for it. Even if it’s just to laugh at him.  Still, Stiles sprints his way around the car to the other side and opens the passenger side door. He only just manages to catch Liam as the boy lolls out and curses as Liam whines again into his neck. The boy is heavy - with muscle and no doubt werewolf  _ something _ because life can never just be fair to Stiles. 

“Hey,” Stiles tries, shaking the other a little. 

Liam groans, takes his weight off Stiles’ shoulder and blinks at him. “Wha-?” 

“You need to tell me where to go from here. I don’t know where you live.” 

Liam blinks again, again and finally glances around. “Stiles?” he questions, “uh - oh yeah. Okay.” 

He extracts himself from Stiles and Stiles shivers at the loss of heat - at the feeling of loss entirely. Stiles shakes off the feeling and gets back in the car. 

Liam gives him directions while furtively peeking at him through his lashes and Stiles doesn’t know why he’s doing that - all he knows is it’s distracting. To remove some of the confusing and steadily growing tension, Stiles cracks a grin and tries to make a joke. 

“You’re cute when you sleep,” he laughs and quickly realises what came out of his mouth does not qualify as a joke. Liam turns to give him a weird look and Stiles tries to laugh it off but he’s already laughing and fears he just comes off hysteric. 

He tries to be silent for the rest of the trip. 

 

They pull up at Liam’s house, Stiles shutting the engine off and turning to Liam - mouth open to say something; probably ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you at school’. Instead Liam jerks forward out of the passenger seat, almost into Stiles’ lap, and kisses him soundly on the mouth. 

Now, he isn’t a great kisser, not even a good one, and if Stiles had to guess he’d say it’s likely Liam’s first kiss. But it’s not like Stiles can judge because he’s kissed almost no-one himself and then Liam presses closer, whines into his mouth and reality finally catches up. 

Stiles stops his rating of Liam’s kissing skills to wonder what the fuck is going on because Stiles fingers are reaching up the back of Liam’s shirt with no regard for what Stiles wants them to be doing and clearly no inclination to listen to Stiles’ brain which is shouting things at him like ‘underage’ and ‘wrong’ and ‘god this feels good.’

His fingers press into the hot skin of Liam’s back and Liam shivers, arranging himself even further onto Stiles’ lap and Stiles realises Liam’s hard at about the same point he realises  _ he is too _ . His traitorous fingers catch on Liam’s hips, crush him closer against Stiles and he keeps thinking things like ‘let him go,’ ‘this is wrong,’ ‘and illegal,’ but his body doesn’t care because Liam rolls his hips down into Stiles’ and their hard lengths press together.

This time Stiles moans, shuddering a breath out against Liam’s mouth and finally - finally - gets the commitment to stop this because Liam’s pulling his shirt off and Stiles doesn’t think he can handle that. 

“Stop Liam,” he tries, “Liam stop stop stop!” 

Liam pulls back like he’s been burned. He looks confused which is fair, but also disheveled and beautiful. Stiles realises with a jolt how much he really wants the kid, and how much he’s been ignoring it. 

“You don’t want me?” Liam asks quietly, looking dejected. Stiles shakes his head. 

“I want you Liam. I don’t - I think this is moving too fast.” 

Liam nods but his head’s tilted downwards and he moves to get off Stiles’ lap. He thinks he’s being rejected. That should be what’s happening too, rejecting him is exactly what Stiles  _ should  _  be doing but he can’t help himself, he grips Liam’s hips - keeps him where he is. 

“Uh,” he tries, throat dry, “maybe we could go on a date?” 

Liam’s head lifts at that, eyebrows rising and surprise colouring his face. “A date?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles nods. 

Liam blushes. It’s dark but Stiles is so sure he sees it, he almost wants to make fun of Liam for it but realises that would be counterintuitive to the situation. 

“I- sure?” Liam asks and Stiles releases his grip on Liam’s hips, helping him stumble out of the car before getting out himself

 

They stand outside the jeep’s open door for a long moment, Liam alternating between looking shocked and happy, and then alternating between staring at Stiles’ face and tracing his eyes down the length of Stiles’ body. To say it’s the most sexually anyone’s ever looked at him is a gross understatement. 

“This Friday?” Stiles asks because he’s older and that surely means he has to try to lead this somewhere.

Liam nods, takes a hesitant step forward and is suddenly all up in Stiles’ space, hands sliding under his open hoodie and plaid, and he’s kissing Stiles like it’s the only thing he wants to do with his life. 

Stiles stumbles through it, trying to keep his hands on Liam’s neck and after failing with that entirely, trying to keep his hands away from anything below the waist. Liam breaks away after long moments, for breath Stiles thinks but he uses it as an ending point because he can’t just stand out here kissing Liam forever. 

“It’s probably your bedtime right?” Stiles asks because he has a horrible case of no brain filter. Liam raises an eyebrow at him, looking unoffended but amused. Stiles thinks he should probably apologise, “I uh-” 

“Did you seriously just make a joke about me being a kid?” Liam interrupts before he gets there. Stiles shrugs, because Liam still doesn’t seem offended which makes no sense with the conversation they’re having. 

Liam shrugs back, over exaggerated and mocking, “... what exactly does that say about you?”

Stiles hadn’t considered that - but as he’d considered nothing before the words had popped out of his mouth, he feels somewhat justified. 

Liam starts laughing at him, which isn’t nice and he quickly tries to change the subject. 

“Uh Friday yeah?” Stiles interrupts, “we could get food?” 

Liam smirks then, “Mexican?” he asks in such a pointed tone that Stiles know it has to mean something but has no idea what it could be until everything clicks together. He gapes, aghast. Liam on the other hand seems to be trying not to laugh - more than he already is. 

“You’re such a dumbass,” he mutters, scraping the soles of his shoes against the side walk. 

“I - I uh… Mexican. I am so sorry,” Stiles attempts. 

Liam shakes his head and does laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow Stiles.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees and thinks it’s possible he’s even more pathetic than Scott’s ever been in his entire life. But… no nevermind… that’s impossible. 


End file.
